Extracted from ‘The Sunday Times’ July 1st. 2007

A Big Mackintosh to relish

Opposite Glasgow’s Kelvingrove museum, Blas offers a modern take on Scottish food, writes Allan Brown.

Back in my salad days when I was doused in a light vinaigrette of innocence and coated with the thousand island dressing of stupidity, I worked as a press officer for Glasgow’s year as European Capital of Culture in 1990. We had an office in which the walls, stationary, coffee mugs and T-shirted chests of the staff were coated with the designs of Charles Rennie Mackintosh.

None of us had a clue what we were doing, so we held lots of meetings and scribbled notes with our Mackintosh pens in our Mackintosh pads. For some reason there were always German television crews arriving and they always cracked the same joke: “Ve zot ze only kulture in Glasgow vas on ze valls of ze council houses, ja? “ We’d laugh dutifully then, for a measure of revenge, book them tickets for the eight-hour drama in Sanskrit at the Tramway.

Seventeen years ago the idea of visiting Glasgow for anything other than a court appearance was the stuff of a madman’s dream. Things aren’t that much better now, but at least tourists are no longer followed by gangs of children mocking their accents. Glasgow is a city-state, developed wholly from Scotland’s traditional lines of business: there’s no royalty there, no government, no castles, no sweeping grandeur.

But the city does have a museum, the Kelvingrove, which has just overtaken Edinburgh Castle to top the list of Scotland’s most visited attractions. Since its refurbishment last year, the museum has welcomed more that 3m visitors, twice the number expected. I can never hear of the Kelvingrove’s runaway success without picturing the ghosts of my 1990 colleagues, puzzling over what the museum has that our programme of community theatre on the dangers of methadone dependency didn’t. Perhaps we were just ahead of our time.

Kelvingrove has its own café, but the nearest full dining opportunity is offered by Blas, which is directly opposite. The name is the Gaelic word for taste, apparently, which conjures up images of craggy Caledonia and food on which to fuel up before heading out to slaughter a rival clan. Housed in a converted bar, though, Blas eschews the rampant taxidermy and Landseer prints of the traditional Scottish restaurant for a sleek, continental feel, with dark heavy tables. The lone partisan touch visually is a wall of Timorous Beasties thistle wallpaper.

The menu has a page headed Provenance that lists its suppliers of meat, cheese and fish, which is a little swotty for my taste, but indicative of how assiduously Blas strives to make its impression. The distinction of the food’s CV, however, isn’t reflected in the pricing, with starters averaging £4 and mains at £8, and the presence of salads and sandwiches to suit the requirements of families visiting the museum.

The Platter Mor was outstandingly good value: around 10 little dishes filled with samples of most of the menu, half meat, half vegetarian, the lamb, stovies and the smoked haddock pie being particularly well achieved, as was a Dunsyre Blue and broadbean risotto. The 8oz sirloin, with flat cap mushrooms and rustic chips, whatever they are, was from Aberdeenshire with a deep flavour that indicated proper rearing and skilled hanging, a superior slab of Ermintrude altogether. A platter of blinis with Ullapool smoked salmon was of connoisseur standard.

There are limitations to Blas’s food that suggest a cramped kitchen and the need to cater for a broad clientele, but as a reasonable, cheerful primer in Caledonian grub it passes with distinction. If the German television crew ever come back it’ll be the first place I take them.

Blas, 1397 Argyle Street, Glasgow, 0141 357 4328, dinner for two with wine £45.